#Irish #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury
The unpurged images of day recede; The Emperor’s drunken soldiery are abed… Night resonance recedes, night-walkers’… After great cathedral gong; A starlit or a moonlit dome disdains
#1933 #TheWindingStairAndOtherPoems
The deck of an ancient ship. At the right of the stage is the mast, with a large square sail hiding a great deal of the sky and sea on that side. The tiller is at the left of the stag...
O curlew, cry no more in the air, Or only to the water in the West; Because your crying brings to my mind passion-dimmed eyes and long heavy hair That was shaken out over my breast:
#1899 #TheWindAmongTheReeds
Undying love to buy I wrote upon The corners of this eye All wrongs done. What payment were enough
Earth in beauty dressed Awaits returning spring. All true love must die, Alter at the best Into some lesser thing.
‘Your eyes that once were never weary of… Are bowed in sotrow under pendulous lids… Because our love is waning.’ And then She: ‘Although our love is waning, let us sta…
#1889 #TheWanderingsOfOisinAndOtherPoems
YOU think it horrible that lust and rag… Should dance attention upon my old age; They were not such a plague when I was… What else have I to spur me into song?
A little Indian temple in the Golden A… that the forest. Anashuya, the young pri… temple. Anashuya. Send peace on all the lands a… O, may tranquillity walk by his elbow
THE old brown thorn-trees break in two… Under a bitter black wind that blows fro… Our courage breaks like an old tree in a… But we have hidden in our hearts the fla… Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.
WHEN have I last looked on The round green eyes and the long waveri… Of the dark leopards of the moon? All the wild witches, those most notable… For all their broom-sticks and their tea…
I AM worn out with dreams; A weather-worn, marble triton Among the streams; And all day long I look Upon this lady’s beauty
OTHERS because you did not keep That deep-sworn vow have been friends of… Yet always when I look death in the fac… When I clamber to the heights of sleep, Or when I grow excited with wine,
Never give all the heart, for love Will hardly seem worth thinking of To passionate women if it seem Certain, and they never dream That it fades out from kiss to kiss;
WHAT woman hugs her infant there? Another star has shot an ear. What made the drapery glisten so? Not a man but Delacroix. What made the ceiling waterproof?
Once more the storm is howling, and half… Under this cradle—hood and coverlid My child sleeps on. There is no obstac… But Gregory’s wood and one bare hill Whereby the haystack—and roof—levelling…
